


Episode 37: Aviila Knew Best?

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [37]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 23:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "Rules, rules, rules, and did I mention rules?" ~ NiriThe festival begins in the morning, but a few last minute details need to be hammered out.
Series: Clan Meso'a [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 2





	Episode 37: Aviila Knew Best?

“Many families will host Maak’ux,” explained Aviila, pulling a small cart laden with two Dunuul and several bags of vegetables, “and Dendona and I have been friends for many years. In fact, her husband is responsible for the chunk of my pinky I’m missing.”   
“What?!” Cara shifted the basket of new blankets she was carrying to see her better, “What happened?”   
Aviila laughed through the panting as they crested the second hill, “During my Choxultz, his spear nearly took the whole thing off. Had I been running any slower, I’d be missing a finger!”   
Tavut, who was walking beside Cara, held out his hand and flexed his fingers, “Hands should be whole, always.” he chuckled.   
“Say that again after your Choxultz, vod,” Niri elbowed him, “I once saw someone lose half their arm in the gauntlet.”   
“Oh my stars, that’s horrifying,” Cara shivered.   
The mechanic cackled, “Yeah well wouldn’t have done him any good. He only made it that far because he was too stubborn to quit.”   
“I thought quitting was bad?”  
“It is,” agreed Aviila, “but if we’re thinking of the same person, he took the trials to prove something, not because he had the strength to do it.”   
“How was your Choshultz?” Cara asked Niri.   
“I’m not a Meso’a, remember?” the Zabrak tapped her nose with a forefinger, “Besides, I’m not dumb enough to trust my life to any of these barbarians.”   
“Barbarians?” Jecho laughed, arms laden with fruit, “They may be tough, but they’re agreeable once you get to know them.”   
Niri rolled her eyes, ‘I’ve been here twice as long as you have, vod, and trust me, I wouldn’t even let Tavut hold a blaster near me and I actually like him!”   
Tavut made a face and Cara giggled. Niri trotted to Aviila’s side and slung an arm around her shoulders.   
“So about hanging out with Ba’atuk tomorrow,” she began, sliding a datapad off of her hip, “I’m thinking we don’t do that and instead do what we always do and have an actually enjoyable Ka’kex. I bet Cara would like that more.”   
“The plans have already been made,” Aviila shook her head, shrugging Niri’s arm off, “Besides, your plan always ends in too much whiskey.”   
“Your point?”   
“My point?” Aviila raised an eyebrow.   
Jecho closed the gap between herself and Cara, “You know who they remind me of?”  
“Fent and Beon?” Cara snickered.   
Jecho nodded, stifling a chuckle. Tavut frowned.   
“You whisper about them?” he asked.   
Cara and Jecho looked at each other and laughed conspiratorially.   
“You wouldn’t get it,” said Cara between giggles.   
On the way down to the market, Cara and Jecho hung back behind the group and talked, really talked, for the first time since they’d met.   
“I’m sorry I never told you sooner,” said Jecho, handing Cara another blanket, “Aviila didn’t think I should. Wasn’t sure how you’d handle it at the time.”   
Cara glanced over at the warrior picking through a crate of dunuul, “I...understand, I guess. She’s always looking out for me.”   
Jecho nodded, “But I know what you’re going through. From time to time, I miss them too.”   
“Yeah?”  
“Mhm..well, maybe not Fent,” she chuckled, “He could be a real pain in the ass!”   
“Why? Me and Dovin loved his jokes.”   
“I bet,” she laughed again, remember that stupid grin he’d get right before he told a particularly bad one, “His humor was always juvenile.”   
“Do you ever wish you could go back?”   
Jecho paused, hands inches above the basket she was reaching for. Her heart thumped against her chest, but she swallowed hard.   
“Every day,” she said, turning to look at Cara, “but this is my home now, and,” she added, putting a hand on Cara’s shoulder, “If I’d gone back, who would be here to teach you?”  
“But if you could?”   
Jecho tilted her head, “I’m not… what do you mean?”  
Cara shrugged, “I just… sometimes I want to tell them I’m okay.” She glanced over at Aviila hoisting a Dunuul into a small cart.   
Jecho followed her gaze, “I think that’s an alright thing to want, but I don’t know if that’s possible.”   
“I know. The not being able to talk to other clans thing,” she said bitterly, folding the blanket and stuffing it into her basket. 

Cara sank into the pile of loose cushions and furs on the floor between the mirror and the table now laden with dinner and several baked desserts. On her right, Tavut munched on sweet, baked kernels dipped in butter; on her left sat the twins Av’hok and Hoori, Jecho’s other students. Members of the nomadic group known colloquially as the Maak’ux Enad (Children of No One), the twins spoke neither Basic nor Mando’a. Their aging mother Dendona, wearing completely teal armor and a red leaf headdress, sat beside Aviila on a bench pulled inside from the patio and translated whenever the twins lost track of the conversations happening around them. Much like other indigenous Meso’a, they had ruddy tan skin, long black hair, and light grey eyes. Their chin markings were the same three black lines filled in between with grey, but their face paint was a slanted swathe of rust-red that covered Av’hok’s left eye and Hoori’s right. Under the opposite eye was a line of gold dots following the natural curve of their lash line. Though Cara did her best not to stare, she found herself unable to distinguish their gender, but since she didn’t know enough Soah-ra to speak with them anyways that hardly mattered. She decided to rely on listening to them speak, which they seemed to enjoy enthusiastically, whether because they had a lot to say or simply because they liked hearing themselves talk. They chatted excitedly to one another, to Jecho, to their mother, and sometimes Aviila, although she gave what to Cara appeared to be one word replies which quickly ended the twin’s queries. Tavut and Niri were largely ignored, but they didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, Tavut seemed pleased to be left alone, muttering to Cara in broken Basic if something they said was “no more than the speech of a river”, which Cara took to mean “nonsense”.   
Niri and Jecho shared a bench by the front door, the former showing the latter what their typical festival plans looked like in the form of a detailed list.   
“I’ve got it all laid out for maximum food and tradeability,” she explained after a swig of ka’hast, “the southern villages have this gold colored chochoma figurine I need to finish my set. So far I haven’t been able to trade for the silver one to get the gold one, but I’ll manage it this year. I’ve got insider information.”   
“She’s figured out what Baba Tam’s favorite food is,” Aviila shook her head, “She plans to bribe her with it despite having zero cooking skills.”   
“Hey, I-”  
“Jecho,” interrupted Av’hok, pointing at Cara, “Na k’aab?” (What is her name?)   
“Ta Cara,” replied Cara with a smile.   
Av’hok looked at her bemused, “Ka’ra? Ra k’aab Ka’ra?” (Lava? Your name is lava?)   
“Tir,” said Jecho, “Tir ka’ra. Na k’aab Cara.” (No, not lava. Her name is Cara)   
“I don’t think they understand the difference,” chuckled Aviila as the twins put their heads together and whispered rapidly.   
“Na k’aab Ka’ra?” Hoori giggled. (Her name is lava?)   
“Le, Ka’ra!” laughed Av’hok (Yes, lava!)   
“Ba’aten?” (Why?)  
“Tir ba’aten? Na s’uta!” chided Dendona. (Why not? It’s beautiful!)   
“Tir rachi-” (I didn’t say-)   
Dendona made a cross between a hiss and a tut which silenced the twins immediately. Tavut rolled his eyes and shoveled another fistfull of kernels into his mouth. Jecho cleared her throat awkwardly and tried to give Cara a sympathetic look, but the teen didn’t return it.   
“What’s wrong with my name?” she asked, only vaguely understanding what the twins were saying.   
“Nothing!” said Jecho quickly, “They just-”  
“Cara sounds like Ka’ra,” Tavut managed through chewing, “means ‘fire tongue’”  
“Like...being hot headed?”   
“No no,” Niri shook her head, “Ka’ra means ‘lava’, and you’re not a hothead, Cara.”   
Tavut frowned and muttered, “I’m smart in my language.”   
“It’s ok,” said Cara, giving his arm a pat, “I can start helping you with your Basic if you want.”   
He flushed, “I, my lesson. I’m sorry. You are a better teacher?”  
“Well seeing as you can understand Basic but not speak it, I think it won’t be hard,” said Niri, “I’ve been working with him for the past few years, but he’s never had a real reason to speak it.”   
“Why not?” Cara asked him.   
He shrugged, flushing a deeper shade of green, “But I am better now.”   
“It’s very different from mando’a and soah-ra,” added Jecho, “most Meso’a find it too wordy. Not that they have a reason to learn it anyways. Most people who come here that don’t speak either language stick to the North.”   
“But what if they want to buy things or talk with the Clan?” asked Cara, taking a handful of kernels from Tavut’s bowl, “Is there a guide book or something that has basic phrases? We had those on Tatooine for the traders.”   
Aviila shrugged, “I don’t spend any time in the North long enough to check. I know Basic, so it doesn’t matter anyways.”   
Jecho and Niri nodded, the latter sitting forward: “And I’m fluent in mando’a, so I never had a problem ‘till I met Tavut. Little stinker barely spoke at all.”   
“Tavut was a Maak’ux,” Aviila explained, “until his parents took the Choxultz and moved to the plains. They’re those two guards who follow Ba’atuk around, Kuntz and Kore.”   
“Oh,” said Cara, trying not to sound so surprised, “I bet they’re really strong to be hanging around her.”   
“It’s their job,” Tavut said almost sadly, “I see them little.” He glanced at Aviila who gave him a knowing, sympathetic look.   
“They’ll come around,” said Niri, leaning back on her hands, “They’ll see you’re-”  
“Tir’rachi, Niri,” Aviila snapped (Stop speaking, Niri).   
Cara looked from one to the other, startled by Aviila’s tone. One look at Tavut and she understood. He was slouched slightly, fingers idly tapping his clawed shoes, and eyes both misted and unfocused.   
“I..” he tried to speak but had to clear his throat, “have a job I am not ready.”   
“What does that mean?” Cara asked with a tentative glance at Aviila.   
The older woman had her arms crossed and her eyes trained on Tavut.   
“Tir’rach ra’tak,” she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his pauldron (You don’t have to talk [if] you don’t want to).   
He looked up at her, a bitter smile on his face, “Tomorrow, doesn’t matter.”


End file.
